Bringing Home Strays
by writeallnight
Summary: Title has been changed!  Was formerly called "Hospitals."  Tucker and Oliver are both sent to hospital to get checked out after the incident at the vineyard.  Hank takes a little time to visit his favorite hemopiliac.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This takes place during "In Vino Veritas." I just love Tucker so much and I couldn't resist writing this. They're not mine but if they were Tucker would be around more often! Enjoy!

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Hank Lawson strolled down the now familiar hallways of Hampton's Heritage toward Room 25. When he arrived he knocked as he opened the door. "Hey, Tucker. How ya feeling buddy?"

Tucker Bryant was half-sitting up in the hospital bed, and IV dripping fluid into his arm. "Hey, I'm doing all right."

He looked tired and his voice was still rough from the toxic gas that had poured into his lungs only hours earlier. "How's Ollie?"

"He's breathing on his own," Hank sat in the chair next to the bed. "His parents are with him. He's going to be fine."

Tucker let out a breath and looked up at the ceiling. "I can't believe this happened."

"I can't believe you jumped into that tank when I told you not to," Hank said pointedly.

Tucker managed a half smile as he turned his head to look at Hank. "Lecture time?"

Hank nodded. "Tucker, that was a really bad decision," the doctor told him. "You could have been hurt, badly, or your airway could have closed up like Oliver's. You really need to think clearly in situations like that, not just react."

"I know, I know," Tucker sighed. "But pretend it had been Evan, or Divya down there. Wouldn't you have done the same thing?"

"I'm not questioning your motive, Tucker," Hank told him seriously. "Your heart was absolutely in the right place. But I have to tell you, it kind of scared the crap out of me when you jumped in. Two injuries in one day is pushing it, even for you."

Tucker smiled. "I promise I will never jump into a fermentation tank again."

"Good man," Hank smiled at him. "So…did you call Libby yet?"

"And risk her wrath? I think not," Tucker told him. "I tweeted about it."

Hank winced. "That was probably a poor choice."

As if on cue Tucker's phone began to vibrate. "Are you gonna answer?"

"Like I have a choice," Tucker picked it up. "Hey Lib."

"Tucker? Oh thank God!" Hank could hear Libby even without speaker-phone. "What happened? Are you okay? Why on earth would you tweet something like that?"

"Libby, there was an accident with Ollie. We're both fine. There's no reason for me to even be in the hospital. Hank took good care of us."

"Hank's there? Put him on the phone."

"Libby-"

"Now, Tucker!"

Tucker looked at Hank. "She wants to talk to you."

"So I heard," Hank took the phone. "Hi, Libby."

"Hank, what is going on?" Libby sounded close to tears.

"Libby, Libby, calm down. Breathe honey, you're going to hyperventilate," Hank waited several beats, listening to her take a few shaky breaths. "Are you okay?"

She sniffed. "Yeah. Hank, what is going on? Why is Tucker in the hospital?"

"Oliver had an accident and Tucker helped. He inhaled some fumes and now he's here at the hospital, just as a precaution. He's going to be absolutely fine."

"So this has nothing to do with his hemophilia?"

Tucker's eyes widened as Hank looked at him. "I'm going to let Tucker answer that one," he passed the phone back to his patient.

"Thanks a lot," Tucker mouthed as Hank shrugged helplessly. "Hey Lib."

"Tucker, what isn't Hank telling me?"

"It's nothing Libby, just a little cut on my hand, that's all. I cut it on some broken glass."

"What? Tucker, how could you do that?"

"It was an accident, Libby. Look everything is fine, I promise."

"I'm coming home."

"No! Libby, it's fine. I'll be out of here in a couple hours, no big deal."

"Tucker…"

"I'm fine, Libby. Go make me a friendship bracelet or something."

Libby managed a small laugh. "Okay. I love you."

"I love you too."

"Promise me you'll be safe."

"I promise."

"Bye, Tucker."

"Bye, Libby."

Tucker hung up and looked at Hank. "Gotta love her, right?"

"She's worried about you. And with good reason, Tucker."

Tucker frowned. "I thought you said things were good? I feel fine."

"Except for the headache you're trying to hide from me," Hank observed.

His patient grimaced. "Picked up on that, huh?"

"Please," Hank rolled his eyes, "Give me a little credit here. The nurses also said you didn't eat your dinner."

"Felt kind of nauseous," Tucker admitted, his earlier cheerfulness fading at the knowledge that he wasn't fooling anyone.

"It's not surprising," Hank said. "That's all perfectly normal considering the day you've had. Those toxins will do a number on your system."

"But, I can get out of here soon, right?"

"They're going to keep you over night to make sure there are no complications. You'll be home first thing tomorrow morning."

"And Ollie?"

"He's going to be here a couple days to make sure his new meds are working and then he'll be home too."

"Well, that's good."

Tucker shifted to get more comfortable. Hank could see he was fading quickly. "Listen, Tucker, I think you should come stay with Evan and me. Just for a few days until you're feeling better and can take care of yourself."

"Hank, you really don't have to do that," Tucker protested. "I take care of myself all the time."

"Let me try again. Tucker, you're going to come home with me tomorrow to stay until you're back on your feet."

"Okay, okay, I'm too tired to argue with you," Tucker surrendered.

"Good. I'll pick you up here at 10:00 tomorrow morning," Hank began to rise, not noticing the odd look that flitted across his friend's face.

At that moment his phone rang. "I'll be right back," he said, as he stepped outside to take the call. "Hello?"

"Hank! It's Libby."

Hank smiled. "Seriously, Libby, he's going to be fine."

"No, Hank, it's not that. You have to stay with him."

"Why, Libby?" Hank asked curiously.

"He hates hospitals, Hank. He's been in and out of them since he was little, and a lot of the time he was by himself. He can't stand to be there alone, Hank. You have to stay with him or he'll go crazy. Please, Hank."

"Yeah, yeah, of course, Libby. I'll stay," he assured her.

"Thanks, Hank," Libby's voice was full of relief. "Take good care of him for me."

"I will," Hank promised. "Bye, Libby."

"Bye."

Hank closed his phone and stood a moment in the hallway, digesting the information he'd just been given before he returned to the room. When he did he found Tucker getting out of bed. "Whoa, hey!" Hank held up his hands to stop him. "What are you doing?"

"I really don't think I need to stay, Hank. I feel a lot better."

Tucker stood, despite Hank's protests, and his knees buckled instantly. Hank caught him before he hit the floor, his heart pounding. "Take it easy. Breathe, Tucker," he commanded as he helped him back onto the bed. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm-I'm good," Tucker said, looking slightly disoriented.

"Here," Hank handed him a glass of water, "drink this."

Tucker took the cup with shaking hands and sipped. After a moment he attempted to smile. "Guess I was wrong, huh?"

"You're fine, Tucker. Just not ready for an early departure. You need to get some rest."

Tucker's eyelids were already drooping as Hank rescued the half-empty cup from his hand. "I am kind of tired," Tucker said sleepily.

"Just let yourself relax."

He helped Tucker get settled back into the bed and then returned to his chair. "Hank," Tucker's eyes opened and he looked at him in desperation, "Will you-would you stay with me?"

Hank's heart broke. "Of course I will. Go to sleep, Tucker. I'll be right here."

At last Tucker allowed himself to relax. Hank watched the young man drifted off to sleep and then reached for his phone. The text he sent was to Evan.

_At the hospital with a patient. Don't wait up._

Breaking hospital policy was not something Hank made a regular practice. But for Tucker, he would ignore the rules anytime.

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A/N: Any and all reviews are welcome! Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

"Rise and shine!" Hank pulled open the blinds as Tucker groaned in his bed.

"It's too early!" he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut against the glare.

"It's 9:30," Hank said, much too cheerfully for someone who had spent the night in a plastic chair.

"It's Saturday!" Tucker cried.

"All the more reason to get up and greet the day!"

Tucker groaned and pulled over his face to block the light. "I hate you."

"The sooner you get up, the sooner we're out of here. And the sooner we can get real breakfast."

Tucker slowly removed the pillow. "Real breakfast?"

"Unless you want to hospital version?" Hank offered.

Tucker rolled his eyes and sat up with a sigh. "Okay, I'm up!"

"I knew food would work," Hank said as he tossed a pair of pants at his friend. "Congratulations, your test results all came back negative this morning. You're a free man. Now get dressed. I'm starving."

Within half an hour Tucker was dressed and discharged. Hank was pushing him down the hall in a wheelchair, something Tucker deplored. "Is this really necessary?"

"Hospital policy, pal."

Tucker frowned. "Where are we going? The door's that way."

"Slight detour," Hank stopped outside Room 14 and knocked.

"Come in."

Hank opened the door and pushed the chair inside. "Ollie!" Tucker cried happily.

"Hey Boy Scout."

Oliver was lying in bed, still hooked up to numerous monitors and IV's. He looked tired and pale, but he was awake and that was enough for Tucker. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better," Oliver's voice was hardly more than a croak, "so they're letting you out, huh?"

"Yeah, no permanent damage," Tucker swallowed. "Look, Ollie, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"Forget it," Oliver told him. "They told me what you did. If it wasn't for you and Hank, I'd be dead. Had it been me, I probably would have thought the same things you did."

"That doesn't make what I did right. I screwed up, Ollie. I'm sorry."

"Tucker, you're my best friend. We're cool."

"Thanks. I'm glad you're okay."

"Me too."

"Time to go, Tucker. Oliver needs his rest," Hank said finally.

"Take care of yourself," Tucker told his friend.

"You too. Hey, I expect a re-match when I'm out of here."

Tucker smiled. "You're on."

They stopped at the Bryant home after breakfast so Tucker could pick up some clothes and other necessities for his stay with the Lawson boys. It was nearly 1:00 by the time they reached the guest house. "This really is above and beyond the call of duty, Hank. Not many doctors take their patients home with them," Tucker told him as he got out of the car.

"Yeah well, we've already established that I'm not your average doctor, right? If it helps think of this as…hanging out rather than babysitting."

"Oh yeah, I totally feel better now," Tucker rolled his eyes as they walked through the door.

"Welcome home, Tucker!"

Tucker's jaw dropped. Divya, Jill, and Evan were standing in front of him holding a bouquet of balloons and a cake. "Hank…what did you do?" Tucker asked when he found his voice.

"I just thought maybe a little welcome home party would be nice," Hank said innocently, setting down Tucker's bag.

"Wow, well, thanks guys," Tucker said, still stunned. "I don't know what to say."

"Say we can eat this cake, because, it's ice-cream, and I'm dying here," Evan told him.

"Cut the cake, Evan," Hank said, rolling his eyes. "I'm going to show our guest to his room."

Tucker followed Hank up the stairs. "This is your room," Hank put down Tucker's suitcase. "Bathroom's through this door, extra towels and pillows are in the closet. Evan's room is next door, I recommend not going in there, and my room is at the end of the hall. Anything else you need, just ask."

"You threw a welcome home party for me."

Hank finally looked at his friend. "Was it too much? Sorry, I just-"

"Thank you."

Hank put a hand on Tucker's shoulder. "You're welcome. You ready to have cake?"

Tucker smiled. "Let's put Evan out of his misery."

"How are you feeling, Tucker?" Jill asked when they all had cake in their hands.

"Better, thanks Jill. Hank's a great doctor."

"Tucker, we should get you on the HankMed Frequent Flier Program or something," Evan said between bites.

"Evan!" Divya hissed and slapped him.

"Ow! What?"

"That is not at all funny or appropriate!"

Tucker snorted. "I'd be happy to join the Frequent Flier Program, Evan."

Evan grinned and opened his mouth but Divya held up a finger. "Not another word."

"But-"

"No!"

"Well, this has been fun, but I have to get back to the hospital," Jill told them.

"And I have to meet with the caterer and then go to dinner with Raj," Divya added. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Tucker."

"Thanks guys."

They all exchanged goodbyes and then the ladies were off. The boys finished up their cake and then Hank rose to put the rest in the freezer. "Well, as wonderful as this has been, I guess I can't put off the inevitable forever," Tucker said.

"What's that?" Evan asked as ate his third piece of cake.

"I really should call my dad and tell him what happened," Tucker told them.

"That's probably a good idea," Hank said as he tried to steal Evan's cake. "I'm sure he'd love to hear from you. How's he doing?"

Tucker paused. "He's okay. I mean, he's still there, right? So that's something."

"It absolutely is," Hank assured him. "This is a long process, Tucker. Give him some time."

Tucker nodded. "I think I'll take a nap when I'm done, if that's okay."

"Make yourself at home," Evan told him. "Our casa es tu casa. Ooh, and we're having steak for dinner."

"Cool. See you later."

They watched him go up the stairs. "I like him," Evan told his brother. "He's a good kid."

"Yeah, he is," Hank agreed, then asked, "Where'd all this wine come from?"

"Oliver's parents sent it over. It's really good stuff."

"Wow," Hank examined a bottle, "that was really nice of them."

"Have I mentioned that I love our job?"

"Only a billion times."

"Well, make this a billion and one."

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A/N: Yay! Chapter 2 up and ready to roll! Hope you enjoyed it, reviews would be amazing!


	3. Chapter 3

Hank and Evan were watching TV when Tucker emerged from his nap several hours later. He'd showered and changed and looked ten times better. "Hey Goose, how was the nap?" the doctor asked.

"It was good," Tucker said as he poured a glass of water. "What time is dinner?'

"Oh, now he's hungry," Hank mocked. "Gee Goose, if I'd known you were going to eat us out of house and home I wouldn't have invited you."

"Haha, very funny."

"I'm going to start the grill right now," Hank said.

"Oh no you're not," Evan stood up. "I am the master of the grill and I will cook the steaks."

"Well if you insist," Hank put his hands behind his head and reclined. "Steaks are in the fridge and potatoes and corn are on the counter. We'll be right here when it's done."

"All right! Dinner's in forty-five minutes!" Evan began to walk toward the door, but something caught his eye outside the window. "Hey Hank, who's car…oh."

Hank turned around. "What?"

"Um…Tucker, you might want to come over here."

Tucker and Hank exchanged looks and then Tucker got up and walked toward Evan. Through the window he saw the car that had caused Evan to pause. "Oh no."

"Tucker?"

He whirled around. "Libby!"

"Oh my God, Tucker!"

She ran and threw her arms around her shocked boyfriend. He held her tightly and realized for the first time how much he really had needed her during the last two days. When she finally stopped hugging him she grabbed his face and kissed him hard.

"I'm gonna go start the grill," Evan said awkwardly.

"I'll come help you," Hank stood quickly and followed his brother outside, closing the door behind him.

Tucker and Libby were left alone. At last they broke apart, but they stayed close to one another. Tucker pushed a strand of hair behind Libby's ear. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I had to see you. I had to make sure you were okay," Libby told him. "Are you? You look pale. Are you feeling all right? Maybe we should sit down."

"Libby, Lib," Tucker laughed as she pulled him to the couch. "I really am fine, see? I wasn't lying on the phone."

"Oh God, Tucker, I just…" tears began to form in Libby's eyes.

"Libby, Libby, don't cry. There's no reason to," Tucker took one of her hands in his own.

"I know, I know," Libby laughed and wiped away a tear. "I am never leaving you again."

"Everyone good in here?" Hank poked his head. "Libby, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah we're good, Hank," Tucker said, "Libby just came home to make sure I was all right."

"Oh, that's very nice," Hank said. "Did you want to stay for dinner, Libby?"

"Yeah, that would be great, Hank, thanks."

"Hello? Anybody still there? Grillmaster's all alone out here!" Evan called.

"Can I invite you out to the patio then?" Hank asked and they all moved outside.

"Hank I think there's something wrong…" Evan was standing two feet away from the grill watching it with trepidation.

"Move over Grillmaster. I'll take care of things from here," Hank informed his brother.

"So, what are you doing here, Libby?" Evan asked as he began to look over the selection of wines they had been given.

"When I got the tweet Tucker was in the hospital I came down with a sudden Inflammatory Auto-Immune Disorder," Libby told him.

"Huh?" Hank asked in confusion.

Tucker and Libby smiled. "It's an inside joke," Tucker explained.

"Oh, ok, very cute," Hank teased.

"So, is Ollie just gonna go back to normal now?" Tucker asked.

"His symptoms will be controlled by a permanent drug regimen," Hank told him.

"You know what, thank him for the wine," Evan chimed in. "It's so awesome. I'm gonna start with this guy."

"Oh, you'll need to chill that first," Tucker began.

"Yeah, I'll just put some ice-cubes in it," Evan told them as he walked to the kitchen.

"Don't you dare!" Libby practically ran after him. "Evan!"

Hank turned to Tucker with raised eyebrows. "It's under control," Tucker assured him.

"Good, good to know," Hank said with a smile.

"So," Tucker began, "you and your Pops, saving the day together. You should take that on the road."

"Yeah…that was a one night only show. But a good reminder that you never really know what to expect from family," Hank said as he sat next to his friend.

"It's like my disinheritance dilemma," Tucker said. "You had it wrong. I'm not getting cut off."

It was then that he finally explained that he was now the sole recipient and distributor of the Bryant Blender Fortune. Then he sat and waited, more nervously than he'd expected for Hank's opinion. When Hank finished voicing his trust in Tucker, the 17-year-old felt a massive weight lift from his chest. He hadn't realized how much it would mean to have Hank put his faith in him.

"Does Libby know?" Hank asked as he went back to tending the grill.

"Yeah, she was the first one I told. You can't keep anything from that girl."

Hank smiled. "Clearly."

Evan and Libby chose that moment to return. "I'm just saying that you've been in the Hamptons for a while and you'd think you would have picked up some wine etiquette by now."

"Yes, Libby, clearly my first priority when I came here was to learn all that I could about wine," Evan said with a shake of his head.

"Libby, don't patronize Evan," Tucker told his girlfriend.

"I just thought he-"

"Is probably intelligent enough to figure things out on his own," Tucker said gently.

Libby smiled at his good natured chastisement. "Okay, dinner's ready!" Hank called as he began putting food onto plates.

"Good, cuz I'm starving," Evan said as he took a seat.

"You're always starving," Hank laughed.

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A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up! That whole moving back to school thing takes a lot of time and effort! Any and all reviews would make the first week of classes brighter!


	4. Chapter 4

Dinner was going well until they were nearly done. Evan made yet another comment which caused everyone to laugh. Tucker, who had been drinking a glass of water, began to choke. "You okay, Tucker?" Hank asked mildly.

Tucker continued to cough and gasp for air. "Tucker?" Hank sat up straight and all eyes went to the 17-year-old.

"I can't-" Tucker tried to speak, but the coughing made it impossible.

"Evan, get my bag," Hank ordered as he realized Tucker was beginning to panic.

He got up and went to kneel by Tucker's chair. "Breathe, Tucker. You're okay; just keep trying to take those nice big breaths."

"Hank, is he-" Libby began anxiously.

"He's okay, Libby. Thanks," Hank accepted his bag and pulled out his stethoscope before loosening several of the buttons on Tucker's shirt.

The coughing and gasping began to die to a wheeze. "I'm okay," Tucker rasped, but Hank shushed him.

"Well, your lungs sound okay," the doctor said, removing his stethoscope. "Is it any easier to breathe?"

"Yeah, it's better now," Tucker said. "My chest was all tight and it's not so much anymore."

"I think the combination of choking and panic over not being able to breathe for the second time in two days made you start hyperventilating which caused you to choke more," Hank said. "Couple that with the fact that your lungs are a little sensitive right now and…"

Tucker rolled his eyes. "I did not panic."

"Right…sure, we'll go with that," Hank said with a smirk.

"Is he going to be all right?" Libby asked.

"He's fine, Libby," Hank assured her. "No need to worry."

Libby didn't look convinced. "I'm fine, Babe," Tucker took her hand, "how about some dessert?"

"How does left-over ice-cream cake sound?" Hank asked.

"I'll get it!" Evan volunteered.

"Hank threw me a welcome home party," Tucker explained to Libby.

"Aw, that was sweet, Hank," Libby said.

Hank shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a softie."

"Which is why he's always bringing home strays," Evan said as he returned with the cake.

"Wh-I do not bring home strays," Hank defended himself.

"Henry," Evan put a hand on his brother's shoulder, "we all have our flaws. Some people snore, some people are always late, and yours is your need to bring home the most pitiful creatures on God's green earth."

"He's kidding," Hank told Tucker and Libby.

Evan rolled his eyes and sat down. "Let us begin at the beginning. Age 9. Young Henry here brings home a pigeon with a broken wing, whom he affectionately dubs 'Birdy.' He nurses 'Birdy' back to health. All well and good until we leave for school one day and Birdy escapes from his box in our room. He proceeds to wreck the entire house, poop all over the place and then escape out of a window."

"That was one time-"

"Age 13. Hank, now forbidden to bring home new pets, sneaks in an abandoned black lab puppy."

"He was malnourished!"

"Christened 'Blackie,' just a note here Henry, maybe you should let the wife name the kids, Hank proceeds to doctor his new friend with a steady diet of lunch meat. What Hank failed to realize was that 'Blackie had fleas. And when 'Blackie' is sleeping in the same room as you and your adorable little brother you will both probably get them too."

"They were gone within a week!"

"Age 25. Henry has just rented his first apartment. It's crappy, it's bug infested, but it's home. No longer content with bringing home the four legged kind of stray, Hank moves onto human being strays. He decides to make friends with the delinquents who live downstairs and clearly have never seen the inside of a shower."

"No one else was helping them!"

"He comes at 2:00 am after a grueling shift in the ER and finds his apartment cleaned out. TV, refrigerator, alarm clock, electric razor, you name it, they got it."

"I like to think the money helped them turn over a new leaf."

"Age 27. After weeks of-"

"Okay, okay, I think we get the point!" Hank cried.

By this point both Tucker and Libby were in hysterics, tears in their eyes. "I just like to help people," Hank said pitifully.

"So, Evan, where do I fit on the spectrum of strays?" Tucker asked.

"Hm…" Evan studied him, "somewhere between Greenie the turtle and Roxanne."

"Roxanne?" Libby asked.

"85-year-old woman with bronchitis. We called her Roxanne because she only spoke Russian and couldn't tell us her real name," Evan explained.

"Well, I for one am glad that Hank likes strays," Tucker said with a grin.

"Haha, yes, we're all hilarious, let's all pick on the nice doctor," Hank grumbled. "I just hope nobody here has a heart attack because I just might not be in the mood to save anybody's life today."

"Aw, don't be bitter, Henry," Evan patted him on the back. "We love you in spite of your issues."

"Right and you were such a little angel as a child," Hank griped.

"Now, Hank, the first step is admitting that you have a problem…"

* * *

At 10:00 Libby went home for the night and the boys settled onto the couch to watch baseball. "So, what do you think the chances are that the Yankees will win this year?" Evan asked as he attempted to catch popcorn in his mouth.

"There is no way I'm touching that one," Hank said.

"Aw, come on, why not?" Evan whined.

"Because if I'm right then you'll sulk and if I'm wrong you'll gloat."

"I will not! Tucker, back me up here."

There was no answer. "Tucker?"

Hank tapped him on the arm. "Tucker!"

"Huh?" Tucker's eyes opened and he quickly sat up. "What?"

"You okay, Goose?" Hank asked.

"Yeah, I must have dozed off," Tucker said, rubbing his eyes.

"Why don't you go to bed?" Hank suggested.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Tucker yawned.

"You're here to rest and recuperate," Hank said. "There's plenty of time for hanging out tomorrow. Go get some sleep."

"Okay, good night," Tucker walked toward the stairs.

"Don't forget to brush your teeth!" Hank called.

"Thanks, Mom," Tucker called back as he disappeared.

Evan shook his head. "Why don't you go tuck him in and read him a bedtime story?"

Hank threw a pillow at him which Evan deflected. "Seriously, Hank. What is it about this kid that makes you care so much?"  
"I always care about my patients," Hank told him.

"Not like this. Come on, tell me."

Hank sighed. "I'm not sure I can explain it. He's just got such a good heart and he's been through so much. I just…want to see him succeed and be happy, you know?"

Evan studied his brother. "You're a good man Dr. Lawson."

"Why thank you Mr. Lawson. You're not so bad yourself. By the way, thanks for letting me bring him here. I really appreciate it."

"Well, I know I really shouldn't be supporting your habit, but I like Tucker and I figured he shouldn't suffer because of your problems."

Hank threw popcorn at him.

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A/N: Please review! I love hearing your thoughts!


	5. Chapter 5

"You're sure you're ready to go home?" Hank asked. "You can stay a few more days if you need to."

Tucker laughed. "I'm fine, Hank. There are lots of housekeepers to take care of me and Libby will be there all the time. There's no reason for me to overstay my welcome."

Now it was Hank's turn to chuckle. "You know you're always welcome here."

"Yeah, I know," Tucker replied. "Thanks for everything, Hank. I really appreciate it. I know Libby does too."

"Be sure you take of yourself," Hank said seriously. "I don't know what we'd do without you, Goose."

Tucker ducked his head in embarrassment and searched for something to change the subject. "Hey, I heard from Ollie this morning."

"How's he doing?" Hank asked curiously.

"He sounds great. Said the meds are working and he feels good. Better than he has in a long time. His parents might even let him go back to school in the fall. Lib and I are going to stop by and see him on the way home."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. Make sure you tell him we say hello."

"Tucker!" Evan appeared at the top of the stairs. "Are you leaving?"

"Yeah, I'm out of here," Tucker said as Evan joined them.

"Oh, Mama Henry's finally letting you go home, huh?" Evan grinned wickedly at his brother.

"Yep, clean bill of health and all," Tucker said with a laugh.

"Well, don't be a stranger. Make sure Libby knows too."

"We won't."

"Hey guys," Libby said as she walked into the room. "Everybody doing all right?"

Tucker slipped an arm around her. "Everybody's doing great, Babe."

"Glad to hear it. You ready to go?"

"Yep. All set."

"Good. Anything I should know, Hank? Any special instructions?"

"Libby…" Tucker couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face at her over-protectiveness.

Hank laughed. "Nope, he's all set, Libby. No special instructions. Just try not to let him fall into anymore fermentation tanks."

"Oh, believe me, I won't," Libby assured him seriously.

"And on that note, we have to get going," Tucker said quickly. "Bye, guys."

Tucker and Libby exited as Hank and Evan called their goodbyes and watched them drive off. "Well, that's yet another stray rehabilitated and sent back to its natural environment. How do you feel, Dr. Lawson?" Evan asked.

"I'm feeling pretty good," Hank said with a smile.

"Yeah?"  
"Yeah."

"Good enough that you're not going to take in another stray any time soon?"

Hank smirked. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

"Well, if you do need to bring someone home, make it a girl."

Hank raised his eyebrows. "Okay, I'll bite. Why should it be a girl, Evan?"

"Henry, please, I can't believe you even have to ask that."

"So, if Roxanne shows up again…"

"A girl between the ages of 18 and 25."

"Oh, I see. You only want me to bring home strays if there's a chance they'll date you."

"Exactly."

"Hm…let me think about it…No," Hank told him and walked away.

"Now that's cold, Henry…"

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A/N: Yay! One more chapter done! Thanks to everybody for reviewing, keep it up!


	6. Phone Call

A/N: This was not originally part of the story, but since people asked for it, I decided to write it as a kind of missing scene. Hope you enjoy!  


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Tucker closed the door to his temporary bedroom. What a wild 24 hours this had been. When he'd seen Ollie down in that tank, it had never occurred to him to let Hank handle things. If he had, things might have been totally different. And now…now he had to call his father. He knew it was what Hank wanted him to do, but there was a part of him that wished he never had to speak to his father again. They'd only talked once since Tucker had dropped him off in Connecticut, and that had been pretty brief, only small talk and awkward silence.

Tucker pulled out his phone and sat down on the bed. Dialing the number he sat and waited. A secretary picked up.

"Yes, I'm calling for Marshall Bryant? This is Tucker Bryant, his son."

"One moment please."

Tucker felt his heart rate rising as he sat waiting for someone to pick up. He swallowed hard. Maybe he should just hang up. There was no reason his father needed to know what was going on. He didn't deserve to know.

"Hello?"

Tucker's mouth went dry at the sound of his father's voice.

"Hello?"

Tucker finally found his voice. "Hey, Dad."

"Tucker! Hey kiddo! How's it going?"

"It's, uh, it's good, Dad. How are you?"

"I'm doing all right. Food's not great, but I can't complain too much can I?"

"Yeah, I guess not."

"So I was thinking the other day that-"

"Dad," Tucker cut his father off. "I have to tell you something."

"Oh, okay," his dad sounded a little confused. "What's up?"

"I…well, there was an accident yesterday and I had to go to the hospital."

"What? Are you okay? Are you bleeding?"

"No, Dad, it had nothing to do with that. I breathed in some fumes, it's no big deal. They released me this morning."

"Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should-"

"No, I'm fine, Dad. Hank says so and I believe him."

"Oh," Marshall Bryant's voice was dripping with sarcasm, "well if Hank says so…"

"Dad, I don't want to fight about this. I'm staying at Hank's, he's taking care of me, end of discussion."

"You're staying at his house?" Marshall said incredulously.

"Yes, Dad, I'm staying at his house. He offered to let me hang here for a few days so I don't have to be at home alone."

"I don't like it."

"You don't like a lot of things, and guess what, you're not here. So I'll decide where I'm staying and who's going to be my doctor," Tucker said angrily.

There was silence on the line. "I…" Marshall Bryant seemed speechless, "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, okay," Tucker said, suddenly very tired. "Look, Dad, I gotta go."

"Oh. Okay, well, you're sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay, bye Tucker."

"Bye."

Tucker hung up and put his head in his hands. His father had the ability to make him angry like no one else could. He was hurt and all his dad could do was focus on Hank. So what if Hank was taking care of him? It was more than Marshall Bryant was doing.

His phone buzzed and he opened it to find a text message from Libby.

_I Love You._

Tucker smiled and texted back.

_Love You Too._

Pushing away thoughts of his father, he focused on those who did care about him. Libby and Hank and Evan and Divya and Jill. They genuinely wanted him to be healthy and happy. He had to remember that.

Setting his phone on the nightstand he stretched out on the bed. They cared and that was all that mattered. That was what he needed to hold on to.

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A/N: That's all I've got for now! Any final reviews would be most appreciated!


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